


Something Old

by noplacespecial



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noplacespecial/pseuds/noplacespecial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica's not entirely sure if it's appropriate to be playing this sexually-charged game of cat and mouse in a church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old

**Author's Note:**

> Last one for [](http://jenedorspas.livejournal.com/profile)[**jenedorspas**](http://jenedorspas.livejournal.com/) as part of [](http://vm-santa.livejournal.com/profile)[**vm_santa**](http://vm-santa.livejournal.com/)...I wanna say 2012? Might have been 2011. I don't remember at this point, but WOW did this one spiral out of control! It was never supposed to be this long, but I just had way too much fun playing with these two, they've always been my favorites. Small shoutout to [](http://scoob2222.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://scoob2222.livejournal.com/)**scoob2222** ; spot it if you can. Also, the "Cutting Edge" reference was completely unintentional, but gave me a giggle when I realized it 3/4 of the way through.

Veronica doesn't truly learn to appreciate Facebook until after she graduates from Hearst. When grad school starts getting to her, it's indescribably liberating to be able to boot up her computer and discover that Shelley Pomroy is knocked up and Madison Sinclair is already on husband #2. The people she cares about the most - Wallace, Mac, Parker - she sees regularly, but it's nice to have an easy way to keep in touch with the few people from high school and college that she places in the category between "Enemies" and "Friends".

Corny cleans up well after graduation; when she first sees his friend request, she wonders who on earth Doug is, but if there's one thing that's stayed the same it's the goofy grin he's sporting in his picture. His hair is shorter, his frame more filled-out and muscular, and if his profile is anything to go by, he's making a decent living. They chat occasionally, easy and without reserve; Corny never gave her crap, even when she was still an '09er by association. She learns that he went to community college, graduated with a decent GPA, and spent a few years at his dad's software development company before moving to Chicago with a friend and opening a restaurant. She sees pictures of his best friend, who becomes his girlfriend, and then, three days after Veronica opens her own agency, his fiance.

He promises to invite her to the wedding, and she agrees to go; but then promptly forgets about it until the invitation appears, months later, amidst a myriad of billing statements. Mac calls a week afterward to report that she's received her own, and the necessary travel arrangements are made. She's got a few people working under her by now, solid investigators that she feels confident leaving in charge of the agency for a few days while she's gone. All in all she's expecting a weekend of girl talk and shopping with Mac, and a night of getting drunk and reminiscing with Corny - _Doug_. Right up until the moment she steps through the doors of the church, she doesn't even consider the possibility that there might be others from their past in attendance.

That all goes out the window when she spots Weevil seated in a pew on the groom's side, five rows from the front.

"What is he doing here?" she hisses. Mac raises an eyebrow.

"Because he and Corny - sorry, Doug - are friends?" she responds. She takes a step forward but Veronica is still rooted to the spot, staring at the back of Weevil's tuxedo-clad shoulders. "Veronica?" Mac prods. "Is there something wrong with the fact that Weevil's here?" She's quick to shake her head 'no'. Though Mac doesn't look fully convinced, she lets her lead the way into the church, and they slide into a pair of seats three rows behind Weevil.

Throughout the service, Veronica does her best to focus on the ceremony. Corny-slash-Doug looks confident and dapper in a suit (something she _never_ thought she'd see), and Kate, his bride, glides down the aisle on her father's arm with a dazzling smile. But past that, if asked she's pretty sure she wouldn't be able to recall what color the bouquet was, whether the vows were traditional or personal, because she zeros in on Weevil. There's a woman at his side, but she can't figure out if they're here together or just coincidentally sitting next to each other. His hair has grown out a bit, and when he looks to the side she sees that he's shaved off the mustache. He's older, the lines starting to faintly show around his eyes, but the smirk he tosses in Corny's direction when he kisses the bride thoroughly upon instruction is classic Weevil, as are the tattoos that poke out from beneath his perfectly-starched collar. Mac keeps shooting her sidelong, suspicious glances, which she pointedly ignores.

When the crowd has migrated from the sanctuary to the banquet hall, Mac heads to the reception line. Veronica heads to the bar.

It's not that she's incapable of dealing with him; she just wished that she had a bit of warning. Then again it's not like Corny had any idea that she and Weevil running into each other would be problematic; there are only select few people that are aware of that little fact. She's not even sure if Weevil still remembers; well, she hopes he remembers - the last thing she wants to be is forgettable. But more she's worried that she's making this into much bigger of a deal than it needs to be. With her back to the crowd, Veronica takes a deep breath and orders a beer. God bless the open bar; she has a feeling she's going to be back several times tonight. Three sips in and she thinks she's mostly pulled herself together when a large, callused hand lands at the small of her back. Her survival instincts almost kick in; somebody's about to get drop-kicked before she catches a whiff of familiar cologne.

"What, you're not even going to come say hello?" Weevil murmurs into her ear. Veronica counts to three before turning to face him, cool as ice.

"Oh, so we're speaking?" she inquires, a raised eyebrow completing the careful illusion of nonchalance. "That's funny, because I'm pretty sure my phone hasn't rung in the last six years." Weevil smirks.

"Really? That's funny, 'cuz mine hasn't either. Runs both ways, V." Veronica takes a swig of her beer.

"Thought you'd be too busy with the new job," she says casually. "What was it again?"

"Private security firm," he reminds her. She nods like she had ever forgotten. There's a beat of silence before he murmurs "I'm never too busy for you," so soft she almost doesn't hear him. She goes back to the beer because she doesn't know what else to do. Drinking several swallows in rapid succession, spinning the bottle on the glass surface of the bar, and picking at the label give her something to do, something else to concentrate on other than his eyes.

"So private security is treating you well? You look good, Weevil." With that infuriating smirk of his, he snags the beer bottle from her hands and steals a sip for himself.

"It's Eli now," he says. Of course it is - Weevil's Eli, Corny's Doug, and even Mac is Cindy at work. "And yes, it is. You're looking quite nice yourself, but that pretty much goes without saying." She's sure that her cheeks are bright red, damn her pale skin, and all she can manage out is:

"Get you own drink." He smiles and takes another sip.

"Dance with me," he counters.

She's just about to agree when Mac finds them. "You two playing nice?" she asks. Veronica eyes her friend's martini as Weevil - _Eli_ \- polishes off her beer before reaching out to enfold Mac in a hug.

"Howya doin', blue eyes?" he greets her easily. Mac is all smiles.

"Better than you," she teases. "I mean aren't you living in Miami now? That's one hell of a drive."

"Maybe I flew," he counters, but Mac bursts into giggles.

"Don't lie to me, you're still scared of heights," she accuses, and Eli groans sheepishly. Veronica turns to the bartender and orders a scotch - beer's just not going to cut it anymore.

"So Veronica here is refusing to dance with me," he's saying when she rejoins the conversation, drink in her hand and already down to only 3/4 of the way full. That's not entirely true, but before Veronica can protest Eli has his arm outstretched. "Miss Mackenzie, would you do me the honor?" he asks. Mac laughs.

"Promise not to step on my toes?" He grins.

"Cross my heart," he responds, complete with accompanying hand motion. Veronica downs the rest of her drink as the two of them link arms and sashay to the dance floor. Somehow, within the last three minutes she's been completely shut out. In her heart, she knows that Mac means well - after all, she doesn't know about their history either. But it kills her to see him so friendly and open with her best friend, while the two of them can barely hold a conversation without innuendo and double meanings.

Veronica slides her empty glass back down the bar and nods in acceptance of another. She smiles as she watches the drink being poured; not that much has changed after all, it appears. It's this realization that brings out a surge of that old Veronica Mars cockiness - Eli he may be, suave and charming in a smart suit, but at the core they're still Weevil and Veronica. And Weevil, she knows full well how to handle. When she receives her next drink, she takes only a small sip, smiles across the floor to where Mac and Eli are laughing and dancing, and seeks out the groom.

"Veronica Mars!" he exclaims happily. She grins and steps in to accept the offered hug. "I wasn't sure you were coming."

"You calling me a liar Co...Doug?" she asks. He laughs.

"Corny's fine. Feels kinda nice, actually - back to my bong-building roots." As Veronica laughs, Kate comes gliding over, impossibly graceful in her floor-length wedding gown. "Veronica, this is my....oh my god, you're my wife now." Kate beams and slides her hand into his.

"Guess so," she agrees. They make eyes at each other for several awkward moments until Veronica clears her throat.

"Save it for the honeymoon, kids," she teases. The newlyweds break apart sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I'm Kate," the bride introduces herself. Veronica smiles and shakes her hand.

"Veronica," she offers. "Your new husband and I went to high school together. He got me out of a few jams back in the day."

"And she got me out of several as well," Corny agrees. "Veronica's a P.I. Actually, she probably looked up your entire life history before she left home, just for fun." Veronica's jaw drops.

"I...didn't dig very deep." Kate looks mildly horrified, but Corny only laughs. She sheepishly tries to change the subject. "So obviously Mac is here, and we spotted Weevil - any more blast-from-the-past surprises I should know about?" She tries for casual, uncaring.

"Maybe a few," Corny admits. "I think you already found the one you were looking for, though." Veronica's eyes narrow. Of the two people in the world that know about certain events in her past, Corny is neither Wallace nor her father, which means that Eli has been a bit loose-lipped. Corny shoots her a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, he didn't say anything you need to be mad at him for."

"We'll see about that," she retorts. And speak of the devil, he comes striding over with Mac still on his arm, tux clinging to his well-defined biceps and oh wow, she is _so_ not thinking about his biceps right now. Nope, not at all. He delivers Mac back to Veronica's side and gives Kate a hug.

"How's it feel to be chained to this one?" he asks. Both bride and groom share a laugh.

"I'll let you know in a few months," Kate replies. Eli releases her and moves to stand behind Veronica. His hand slides across her hip, undeniably intimate, and Corny raises an amused eyebrow.

"So Mars, are you still refusing to dance with me?" he asks. She's oh-so tempted to say something cutting and rude, but stops herself given that they've got an audience this time around. So with a demure smile, she turns to Mac.

"Did he step on your toes?" she asks. Mac shakes her head.

"Not even once." Veronica gives Eli the once-over.

"Yeah, why not?" He chuffs out a laugh.

"Who can argue with that enthusiasm?" After handing off her drink, they leave Mac to converse with the happy couple and Eli leads her out onto the floor. It's crowded with friends and relatives, but they weave their way through until they find a small pocket of space near the middle. Once there, they regard each other for a moment, wondering exactly how to go about this. But Veronica finally steps in, sliding one hand around his neck and linking the other with his, maneuvering them into classic waltz pose. Eli chuckles but goes along with it. The position allows them to maintain a small amount of space between them, but Eli seems intent on closing that distance. He smirks, infuriatingly smug, hand sliding further down her back until it rests at the swell of her rear. His palm is warm, the heat searing her skin even through her dress. To retaliate, she starts stroking the back of his neck, her thumb trailing to just behind his ear where she knows he's incredibly sensitive. Eli sets his jaw and tries his best not to respond, because that's what they do - this endless game of chicken that's been going on since high school, both of them stubbornly determined to best the other. It's a familiar rhythm, comfortable, one Veronica happily immerses herself in.

"So Corny seems to be awfully knowledgeable about certain things," she pipes up. Eli shrugs.

"Yeah, Doug and I keep in touch. He's a good guy." A pause. "I'm a good guy too, you know," he adds pointedly. She ignores that last part.

"Exactly how much does he know?" she demands. Another shrug.

"I didn't give him details, if that's what you're asking. He was talking about who was coming to the wedding, and your name came up. All I said was that you and I had a thing." She sees his cheek muscle twitch. "Don't worry, I didn't tell him what happened afterward." Veronica swallows, hard.

"That was a long time ago, Eli," she murmurs. And damn does the use of his first name sting. Once upon a time she was the only one he allowed to call him that; now it's open territory.

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like that long," he responds. Veronica closes her eyes and doesn't resist when he pulls her the rest of the way in, tucking their linked hands against his chest. She lets him slide his arm more firmly around her waist, ignores the pointed stares from Mac even as the song ends and another one begins. It hasn't been just the two of them in years and she's going to make the most of it even if she leaves this wedding empty-handed and never sees him again. Despite time and distance there's still something here between them. Veronica suspects there always will be. Eli Navarro has always been the person that not just accepted but understood her, wasn't just her friend but her confidant. Given how their friendship started, back when they were both up to their necks in less-than-legal activities, it's ironic that he's always been the one she could trust the most easily. There was just never a question, even back then; Eli could be trusted. It was a fact of life.

"So it's been awhile since I've been to a wedding, but refresh my memory," he says into her ear. "Does just the bride wear one of those sexy little garter things, or are you packing too?"

Veronica laughs, pulling back so that she can look him in the eyes. Trust him to stop things from getting too heavy. "Sorry to disappoint, cowboy." Eli pouts.

"You sure?" he asks. "Because I'd be more than happy to double-check." Veronica laughs again, sliding both arms around his neck and effectively eliminating any space left between them.

"Don't get your hopes up," she murmurs.

"Oh, something's up." And right he is. With a sly smile she presses even closer, teasing him. God, she missed this. Still, when the second song comes to a close, Veronica untangles their arms and takes a step backwards. There's a beat of silence during which they just stand, sizing each other up. Veronica feels her cheeks begin to heat, but she covers it well. "I'm going to go find Mac, before she starts thinking you've kidnapped me. Thank you for the dance, Eli." He smiles.

"My pleasure."

Veronica makes it off the dance floor without looking back. Almost.

She finds Mac at their table, Blackberry in hand. She smiles as she slides into the empty chair next to her friend.

"Harrison?" she predicts. Mac grins at the mention of her pseudo-boyfriend.

"He sends his regards," she reports. Veronica nods.

"Send mine back." There are napkin rings at every place setting, fancy engraved silver with flowers tucked into them. Veronica fiddles with hers while Mac finishes up her message, awaiting the inevitable. Sure enough, when she tucks the device back into her purse, she turns in her chair to face Veronica fully.

"So. You and Weevil." That's all she says, but her expression is expectant. And damn if she's not persistent, as well Veronica knows. She blows out a sigh and continues playing with the napkin ring.

"Yeah. Right after we graduated Hearst."

"And?" Mac prods. Veronica shrugs.

"And it didn't work out. My fault more than his. Haven't seen him since."

"Oh come on, is that all I'm gonna get?"

"Yep." Mac's look is challenging, but Veronica meets her glare for glare. Her friend softens with a sigh.

"Guess I shouldn't be too surprised," she admits. "I mean it was pretty obvious even back in high school that you two were into in each other." Veronica reaches for her long-abandoned scotch, now sitting next to Mac's empty martini glass and tasting mostly of melted ice cubes. She takes a sip only halfheartedly, more to have something to do with her hands than anything. She wonders how many other people figured them out along the way, because she herself didn't even know until they were right in the middle of it. Before she can delve further into the reminiscing, however, there's a commotion across the way. The cake is being cut. Mac leaps up excitedly and grabs Veronica's arm.

"Oh, we are _absolutely_ getting a piece of that!" she exclaims. "Corny's been talking it up all night, it's going to be to die for." Veronica laughs and lets Mac pull her over to the other side of the room. The brunette bounces eagerly in her heels as the first piece is cut, Kate and Doug feed each other, kiss, pose for photos. But in reality there's no cause for worry, because the cake is just _massive_. There are three tiers, each easily the size of several large sheet cakes put together. But Veronica laughs as Mac snags an extra piece just the same. She's biting into her own (it really _is_ to die for, three layers of fudge cake and raspberry filling beneath creamy white chocolate frosting) when Eli is at her elbow. Again.

"Fancy running into you two here," he says easily. He eyes Mac's second piece. "You got some for me?" Her face contorts in outrage.

"Get your own!" she commands. Eli laughs and does just that, pauses to say something to Corny, but then he's back at her side. Mac is too involved in her cake to pay either of them any attention. Which is probably a good thing, because Veronica knows that if her friend could see the way that Eli's eyes track every movement of her mouth, she'd never let either of them live it down. She's sure to take extra care while finishing her dessert, chewing slowly and licking frosting from the fork and from her own lips. She wants to be amused at how easy he is, but it's slowly turning her on as well. She takes a deep breath, swallows her final bite.

Veronica's not entirely sure if it's appropriate to be playing this sexually-charged game of cat and mouse in a church. But at the moment she can't say that she cares.

"I'm going to find the restroom," she says as she excuses herself. And find it she does, but instead of entering she slips into the small conference room three doors down. She takes her time setting her purse on the desk, removing her shoes, and wondering if she's played this right. Then the door creaks open behind her, shuts and locks, and she smiles.

He's on her before she can even fully turn around, and the first time he leans in his mouth catches her cheek. He hits the target the next time, the kiss just as raw and passionate as if six years had never passed between them. And it's _good_ , oh god it's good. Veronica clutches at his neck and lets him back her up against the mostly-empty desk. A pen cup topples to the floor, and the lamp wobbles precariously near the edge on the other side, but she scarcely notices with the way Eli's hands are traveling up her thighs. She slides a finger down his collar and around, opens the top few buttons and latches her lips onto his throat. He hooks his hands behind her knees and lifts her onto the surface of the desk, where he keeps pushing at the silken hem of her dress until it's far enough that he can see that she's not wearing anything beneath it. She feels the groan as it rumbles through him, and laughs against his skin.

"Told you I wasn't wearing a garter," she teases. He traces a figure eight against her inner thigh.

"Oh, trust me, I am _not_ complaining."

There are too many tiny buttons on his shirt to deal with, and between the haze of lust and the alcohol she's already consumed Veronica's pretty sure that she'd rip the material anyway. So she settles for fumbling open his belt, his fly, and finally shoving his boxers down so that she can get her hands on him. He stops touching her when she does, rests a hand on the desk on either side of her and braces himself like he can't quite keep himself in check. Veronica grins and strokes him faster. But he's not getting off that easy; pardon her pun. He does start touching her again when he's close - grabs her by the shoulders abruptly and pulls her closer, until the movements of her hand are trapped between their bodies. She takes full advantage, scooting forward on the desk and angling him forward, until he's slipping between her folds as if he'd never been gone.

They both groan at that initial contact. It's frightening and familiar at the same time, but when Eli starts thrusting any fright turns quickly to pleasure. He's warm and solid against her, skin tasting just the same. In fact, if she squeezes her eyes shut, she can almost let herself believe that it's six years ago, the two of them curled on the couch of her first apartment, getting lost in each other halfway through a movie they were supposed to be watching.

She wishes she knew why she let him go. No, that's not true - she knows full well why. But she wishes that she weren't so terrified of getting close to someone that she would let him slip away so completely, cut herself off from him so thoroughly. This, right here and right now, rocking together to this ancient beat with their damp skin clinging to one another and her hair caught in his cufflink - this is what she gave up, what she doesn't know if she's going to be able to survive giving up again. It's all too much, too fast, too intense.

Each time Eli surges forward into her, the little glass lamp on the edge of the desk shifts a few more centimeters. He's keeping an eye on it even as he's grinding against her, trying to minimize the damage they're doing to _a freaking church office_. They're nearly there, so achingly close, when it finally starts to topple off. He reaches forward to grab it but misjudges the distance, and with Veronica's arms wrapped around him they both go tumbling down instead of the lamp, which makes the journey clutched in Eli's fist without hitting the ground. He sets it aside as Veronica manhandles him until she's on top.

It's all a blur after that. Free of the restrictions of the desk, they're able to use the floor for leverage as she rides him mercilessly, driving them into a blinding orgasm that ends with them sprawled halfway beneath the desk and Eli's forearm bruised from knocking it against a chair. It's several minutes until either of them can catch their breath enough to actually say anything. And when they can, they don't know what _to_ say; after all, what's the best way to address the ex not-really-boyfriend that you just hooked up with in a church at a friend's wedding? If Emily Post had any advice to offer in this situation, Veronica's pretty sure she missed it. So she concentrates on smoothing her hair, untwisting her dress, buckling the tiny delicate straps of her heels. She checks her reflection in her compact, just to be sure there aren't any revealing cowlicks or hickeys that she's missing. Eli catches her eye in the mirror and she snaps it shut as she turns to face him. He's got his shirt tucked in and his pants buttoned, jacket sitting correctly on his shoulders, but he's having trouble with the unraveled bowtie. Veronica smiles fondly and moves to help him.

"So what now?" she asks. She shoos his hands out of the way and sets about re-tying the tie herself. There's a hickey blooming just above his collar, but it's hidden amongst the lines of his crown tattoo, so that if you weren't looking for it you wouldn't even know it was there.

"That's pretty much always been up to you, hasn't it?" Eli replies. She bites her lip, concentrates on the fabric in her hands. But it doesn't take all that long to tie a bow, so when it's all done she trails her fingers down his chest, until they're resting at her sides with no excuse left to touch him.

"I kinda suck at being a girlfriend," she admits softly. He chuckles.

"So don't be a girlfriend. Just be Veronica." She goes back to chewing her lip. He has a way of being completely romantic without even meaning to, and it's utterly endearing.

"Veronica is pretty pushy," she points out. "And nosy...a bit of a control freak. Plus, I don't know if you've heard, but apparently she's _kind of_ a bitch." Eli nudges her chin with her fist, forces her eyes to meet his.

"I know all that already," he reminds her. "Look, V, I don't really know what I want in life, okay? I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm not ready to move in together...all I know is that whenever you're around, things are a little bit easier and a lot more fun. So can we just go with that, for now?" The smile that spreads across her face is warm and genuine, in a way that she hasn't truly felt in awhile. In the simplest of sentiments he's summed up exactly why she, in turn, likes having him around as well.

"Yes," she blurts out. Weevil raises a brow in both surprise and amusement. "That's...that's all I can give you right now. Just...I can try?" He smiles. When he leans in to kiss her, it feels like a promise.

"Works for me."

(Veronica refuses to join the women for the bouquet-tossing when they return to the reception. Mac, on the other hand, has no such qualms, and when she wrestles the flower bundle away from a middle-aged woman who may or may not be the bride's mother, she simply drops it into Veronica's lap. Despite her friend's protests, Mac just smirks at the two of them. Weevil laughs and considers it her blessing, then kisses her right there in front of everyone. Though she's focused solely on the feel of his lips on hers, Veronica's fairly certain that she can hear Corny cheering in the background.)


End file.
